Sacred Prayer | Taylor Swift

tres

"February 14th 2017, Age 28

And no matter how hard we tried, our heartbeats never synchronised."

Stella's gaze remained fixed on the email that had occupied her thoughts for the past two days. Her mind buzzed with a myriad of emotions as she absentmindedly chipped away at her once-immaculate red nail polish, a physical manifestation of her inner turmoil. The inside of her lip bore the marks of her nervous habit, a testament to the intensity of her contemplation about how to respond.

Initially, skepticism had clouded Stella's perception of the email. However, a quick Google search alleviated her reservations, confirming the authenticity of the sender as none other than Tree Paine, the renowned publicist for none other than Taylor Swift. A surge of excitement mingled with disbelief coursed through her veins. Still, a lingering doubt lingered — could this be an elaborate ruse, someone impersonating Tree Paine? Stella couldn't shake off the lingering apprehension, desperately hoping that the universe wasn't playing such a cruel joke on her.

As she grappled with her conflicting emotions, Stella considered the implications of this unexpected correspondence. The mere prospect of being in contact with Taylor Swift's publicist injected a surreal quality into her mundane reality. The gravity of crafting a response weighed heavily on her, and she found herself navigating the delicate balance between caution and optimism.

Her thoughts were quickly interrupted, and her eyes averted from her computer screen, which showed a blank email response when Stephanie gently announced her presence with a verbal "knock, knock."

"What's up?" Stella flashed a polite smile at the younger girl, who today sported a pair of denim overalls.

"There's someone at the desk who asked for you," Stephanie spoke cautiously, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe of the office.

"For me?" Stella furrowed her brows in confusion. "By name?" she asked, seeking clarification.

"By name, Estella" the red head confirmed with an emphasis on Stella's full name.

"Offer them a coffee; I'll be out in a second," the owner nodded with a hint of hesitation. No one had ever come into the store before and asked for her, let alone by name.

Stephanie nodded curtly and turned on the heel of her foot, heading back to the cafe. She eyed the mysterious visitor suspiciously, dressed in complete business attire and casually sporting a YSL handbag.

"She'll be out in a second," Stephanie informed the woman, her nerves evident. The redhead seated in front of her had an aura that screamed importance. "Can I get you a coffee?" Stephanie asked, wiping her palms on the thighs of her overalls. "On the house," she added, not that she thought the woman couldn't afford it.

"Sure," the nameless redhead agreed with a confident yet enigmatic smile. "I'll take a latte." Stephanie scurried off to prepare the latte, her mind racing with curiosity about the mysterious visitor and the reason for her specific request for Stella.

As the espresso machine hissed and the milk frother whirred, Stephanie couldn't help but steal glances at the intriguing guest. The air in the cafe buzzed with an unusual tension, an unspoken anticipation of something unfolding in the quaint little store.

As Stephanie prepared the latte, the nameless woman couldn't resist striking up a conversation. "You have a charming little place here. How long has it been open?" she inquired, her voice smooth yet carrying a tone of authority.

Stephanie, caught slightly off guard, replied "oh, thanks! Stella took over of the place about 2 years ago now, her grandmother owned it previously, it's been open for about 30 plus years I think? But Stella would be able to tell you more" Stephanie rambled.